Wanted Property
by Catalina Royce
Summary: [One Shot] Sometimes with Draco, I felt like I had a soul. [HBP spoilers]


**Title:**Wanted Property  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Summary:** "Sometimes with Draco, I felt like I had a soul."  
**Disclaimer:** Characters and settings belong to author J. K. Rowling and her affiliates.  
**Rating:** PG  
**Author's Note:** Just a short angsty piece to fill in some time. I'm still writing Criminal, but I've misplaced the book I've written it in -- I will find it soon, I promise. If any of you haven't already been, I strongly suggest going to my website Quiescence (quiescence/dot/never-established/dot/net -- replace the /dot/ with actual dots.) -- particularly for this story. It looks much more spectacular on that site than this one.

**Wanted Property**

It all looks different from this side of Hogwarts. When we were younger, we cared so much about House Rivalry, about beating our 'enemies' and fighting for the honour of our house, about topping the class and scoring points off each other.

It all seems so stupid now, though.

As soon as graduation day came, all that we thought we knew fell apart; all that we stood for disintegrated. What did it matter that we were top of our class at school? This was the real world, and this was a real war. When we dropped like flies, they didn't spare us because we had come from the same house as them, or because we had scored the points that had brought our house the win of the Cup.

No. Because war was bigger than petty rivalries, it was larger than House honour. It did not _care_ if we were Slytherins or Gryffindors, it did not _know_ if we were Snape's Pet Student or McGonagall's Favourite. All that mattered was life, death and the will to survive, and often the last was sacrificed for the first anyway.

Oh, we had new alliances. Bonds were formed, trusts were broken. Pacts were made and silences were slaughtered. Never was there someone to turn to, someone to lean on without thinking, _tomorrow, you could be my enemy_.

Such is life. Such is war. Spies were everywhere, and everyday there was more news. _The Prewetts slaughtered in Death Eater Raid; Patils Attacked While on Ministry Business; Creevy Brothers Massacred In Death Eater Strike_.

And always, always, there was the threat of more violence; violence to your family, to your friends. Worse than that; _from_ your family, _from_ your friends. Everyone was tired, oh, so tired, so ready just to give up and let go of the last tatters of society.

And yet.

There was no time to live, but too much time as well. Still, we fought the constraints. We still laughed, still joked, still went out and socialised. Never did we seem to reach the point where we could no longer smile.

It was in this setting that we fell in love. In this time of betrayal that we tried to trust each other. Perhaps it was because I knew I couldn't trust you that I trusted you so much; we were on different sides fighting for different causes and different reasons. Whichever side won, one of us would lose.

War brought out the worst in us; hate, fear, fury. And yet, it brought out the best, as well. We learnt how to comfort; we learnt forgiveness at the hands of those who had no mercy, learnt love in the hands of hate.

Never was a future spoken of, never obsessed over. Draco Malfoy was Wanted Property, a hunted man. Neither of us really believed that he'd make it out alive. Each of us knew that we would have to face things we wouldn't be able to mention if we married. Each of us knew that it was one or the other. We knew that anything more than meaningless comfort wouldn't work.

And yet.

Sometimes I dreamt. We joked of pink haired babies. Of orange blossoms and all-in-white. It was always a joke. We tried to forget the outside world as long as we could.

We couldn't do it.

I was a ministry worker, and he was the Death Eaters' comrade. Our time together was limited. We understood each other, though. We fought to keep our families alive, fought for vengeance, fought for reasons we didn't understand but were hapless to obey.

It hadn't been like that, once. Once I'd stood side by side with friends and family full of conviction and self-righteous morals. Ethics. Beliefs.

Believe me, beliefs have nothing to do with war.

My beliefs disintegrated, one by one. Death by death. Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore. Parvati, Luna, that boy in the year ahead of me I always saw but never knew. The first deaths started early.

When we first stepped out of Hogwarts, we drew lines in our mind. _I'll never hurt someone without proof that they're a Death Eater, I'll only do good, I'll never ignore those in need, I'll never, I'll never, I'll never…_

Bullshit.

The first time that you see your brother, maimed and dying and crawling towards you, you don't stop to think about who is and isn't a Death Eater. You hex anyone standing. You think _fuck those in need_, and _family comes first_ and the lines start to blur in your mind. Then they die anyway, and you get into trouble –

You have to choose between _family comes first_ or the _cause comes first_. One day that choice is easy. One day that choice will be the difference between your brother's life or death.

Some people refuse to make that choice, and the choice is made for them. For most people, that day is the day you lose your soul; and when your soul is gone, the beliefs you once had don't matter.

Sometimes with Draco, I felt like I had a soul. When we were together, it was as if the world outside ourselves stopped, as if nothing existed but us. It was as if we could forget.

We rarely spoke about anything important; he'd chat about books he'd read and how he loved to watch me when I sat in front of a fire. Any discussion about magic was off topic; the physical act of a spell was allowed, the discussion wasn't – spells could reveal something we don't want the other side to know, something that could give an advantage. And spells led to the discussion of war, and with a family like ours –

We were in an unenviable position. Sometimes I dreamt that my association with him would mean that my family were safe; but keeping my family safe meant keeping Harry safe, and since Harry was the leader of Voldemort's opposition, it would never happen.

We'd meet together in a hidden grotto. At some point it'd turned into a sort of house; a kitchen and a bed, a couch and even a fireplace. There was never really a set time – whenever it was quiet enough of both fronts for us to get away. I'd sleep in front of the fire if he wasn't there. There were times when he'd arrive and find me dozing and curled up like a cat, the fire keeping me warm. He'd pick me up so gently and I'd pretend not to wake up, even though I'd wake at any noise; the constant state of paranoia we lived in.

He'd carry me to the bed and I'd wait to see what sort of method he'd use to try to wake me up. Sometimes he'd kiss me. Sometimes he'd tickle me. Sometimes he'd stroke my hand until I opened my eyes and saw him standing there, his eyes tender and a smoky grey I've never seen since. His face was strong and hardened and weary, his pale blonde hair a silver-gold in the moonlight. He'd strip off his shirt and robe and lie down next to me first, and I'd turn on my side and slide my hand up to rest on his heart. His hand would cover mine. I could feel his heart beat and I'd sigh and rest my head on his shoulder.

Slowly, very slowly, he'd relax.

His lips would touch my forehead softly. He'd growl and say, "You know, babe, you look like Venus when I see you silhouetted by the fire." And then he'd kiss me, would roll on top of me and press me into the bed, make me feel protected and safe.

We had rules laid down. After the third time we met, when we realised that this would keep happening, we set down rules. One of them was no discussion about the war. Another was that we'll never say those three little words that could ruin everything.

And we never did say them.

I did think them.

Sometimes when we were together, I'd wonder just where all my self-conviction went. Cohabiting with the enemy, I was. I should turn him in, I should use him for information, I should...

Enjoy what I have and cling to it as much as possible.

One day I went to our place, tired and worn out. There'd been more attacks in the night, and the newspapers were screaming with more deaths, more pain, more, more, more.

So I went to lick my wounds. He appeared through the night, tired and battle worn. I burst into tears and ran to him. I was tired. This man could have murdered my friends, my allies. But he was also the closest thing to soul mate I'd ever know.

When we left the next morning, I started crying. "Draco," I whispered. "I don't want to leave. I lo-"

He kissed me quickly and hard. "I know," he replied with a smile. "Me too. But we have rules, Gin, and we stick to them for a reason. Saying those things will only lead us into trouble." He wiped my tears away. "Kiss me now and say goodbye."

I did. What else could I do?

We had rules. We were in a hopeless situation. Ultimately, one of us would win, and one of us would lose. Both of us could die.

We were betrayal itself, and neither of us could stop. Every time, we tried to stay away longer, tried to tell ourselves that we wouldn't go again – and every time we'd apologise and pretend that the world never existed.

We did discuss some things. "Ginny," he told me once. "If you ever get pregnant to me, I want you to say that you were raped."

I stared at him. "No," I replied fiercely. "_No_."

He stared me down. "**Yes**."

It didn't matter anyway. It never happened.

The battles got fiercer. There were lines drawn, and even a hit list by our side. He was Wanted Property. And now I had a choice.

I refused to make that choice and in the end, the choice was made for me. I kissed him goodbye one morning –

And woke up to a newspaper article the next.

**Prominent Death Eater Eliminated**

After a serious of fierce attacks from the Death Eaters, a team of Aurors led by Harry Potter have ended the brutal massacres with the extermination of a prominent Death Eater, Draco Malfoy. Malfoy, previously an ex-student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is known to have been behind the deaths of Dedalus Diggle, Mad-Eye Moody, Elphias Dodge, The Brown and MacMillan families. He is also believed to be the instigator of the Halloween Horror murders.

Malfoy's father, Lucius Malfoy, was a known Death Eater from the original War, and has been previously sent to Azkaban, and although he escaped during the break out of the Dementor Rebellion, he was brought to justice earlier this year, in a daring operation...

Death Eaters don't have funerals. And members of the Order certainly don't go to them.

We knew this would happen, he and I. It was one or the other, maybe both. Our love – it was not meant for this time. It was not meant for this world.

Death Eaters don't have funerals. And members of the Order certainly don't go to them.

I was the only one who cried for him.

But then, to the world, Draco Malfoy was Wanted Property.

I was no different; I wanted him.

But we were never meant to be.


End file.
